


She's Having A Righteous Baby

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1970s, Angels, Gen, Guardian Angels, POV Mary Winchester, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester, Pregnant Mary Winchester, Unborn Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-06
Updated: 2013-07-06
Packaged: 2017-12-17 20:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1970s Kansas, a young pregnant Mary Winchester thinks she's being followed by a creepy man while shopping at the flea market. She confronts him and he tells her that he's Castiel, an angel of the Lord. Nothing prepares her for the news he's going to give her about her unborn baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She's Having A Righteous Baby

Mary Winchester felt like a beach ball. A clumsy beach ball bumping into tables and people at the flea market.

"Excuse me," she said repeatedly through awkward smiles.

She only had fifty dollars to buy things for the baby that month, which didn't leave much more time. Her first child was due the next month. No fancy baby things for the Winchesters, she thought with a sigh. They could only afford things that countless other babies already used.

But, as Mary flipped through a rack of mismatched used baby clothes, she reminded herself to be grateful. Despite constantly being broke, she married John and, most importantly, she got out of the old life. She was the first Campbell in God knows how long to break away from the family business without getting killed first. Now that she had a baby on the way, there was no turning back. She never wanted her children to live that way, or to even know that she had.

"I don't suppose you could let me know if you're a boy or a girl, hm?" she said to her round belly as she held up a pink dress. "What do you think of pink lace in there?"

She rubbed her tummy with a faint smile, deciding on a series of footie pajamas in gender neutral colors. Five of them for a dollar. Not bad.

As Mary moved to the next tables in the outdoor flea market, her spine prickled the way her body alerted her to being watched. She pushed her feathery blonde hair behind her ear and scanned her surroundings. A man four tables away caught her eye. Shaggy dark hair with blondish streaks curled over his shirt collar and piercing blue eyes stared at her stomach so intently that she instinctively curled an arm around her baby. It was probably just a creepy man into pregnant women, she told herself, and she could handle him if necessary.

For the time being, Mary chose to ignore the creep. She found a table operated by a woman who's kids just started school and she wanted to get rid of her baby things. Young Mrs. Winchester bought the baby crib, rocking chair, and several toys for twenty-five dollars. The deal had her so excited that she nearly forgot about the creepy man.

But making her way to the other side of the flea market and still seeing the man's blue button down shirt between other people started to worry her. She decided it was time to get out of there. Quickly, she made arrangements for her furniture to be delivered the next day and headed for the only exit.

She kicked herself for not having John pick her up in his Impala instead of walking home alone. It wasn't that she didn't know how to defend herself but she didn't want to have to do it while eight months pregnant. The creepy man strolled along about twenty or thirty feet behind her with his hands in his brown suede coat pockets. She knew they'd soon leave the heavily populated part of Lawrence, Kansas, which meant it had to be handled now.

Mary casually reached into her purse and gripped a handgun that her father had given her for her sweet sixteenth birthday. An alley up ahead seemed like the best place. She ducked around the corner and pointed the gun through the shadows, waiting.

"What do you want?" she called out to the man, who watched her from the street.

He said nothing. Silently, he ambled into the alley toward her. Panic streaked through her limbs. Even the baby jumped in her tummy. She pulled the trigger three times, bringing three spurts of blood from the man's chest, yet it didn't stop him at all. The bullets were silver, she remembered, so even if he was a monster, they should have killed him. Her mouth fell open in shock as he stopped barely two feet in front of her and gently took the handgun from her hands.

"Who are you?" she whispered. "Please don't hurt me. I'm pregnant."

"I have no intention of hurting you. My name is Castiel. I'm an angel of the Lord." His voice never faltered. It sounded so monotone and controlled, devoid of all emotion.

Mary laughed defiantly. "Angels don't exist."

"I assure you, we're quite real. Let me take you home."

Before Mary could throw a punch or argue, Castiel touched her shoulder. Swooping wind engulfed the young mother-to-be, and in an instant, she felt herself landing -  _landing_ \- in her own living room. Castiel retracted his hand the moment they were safely installed in her new home.

"How did you do that?" she demanded.

"I'm an angel of the Lord," he repeated patiently.

Mary scoffed. Sarcasm masked her anxiety. "You look like a beatnik."

The alleged angel peered down at himself with detached interest. "I don't understand that reference. This is not my true form. I took a vessel for the moment. Pastor Novak. He's a  _progressive_ minister, I suppose. Very in touch with his flock." For the briefest moment, his blue eyes softened. "Like you, he's a new parent. His son is a toddler now. Jimmy, I believe."

Nodding slowly, she tried to make sense of it all. "You're possessing a beatnik minister. You know little Jimmy's probably missing his father. Did you think about that?"

"Pastor Novak prayed to be of service. It's in his bloodline. I'll leave him before the day's over," he promised.

Her mind spun through any number of possible reasons for an angel to be standing in her living room. It worried her for reasons that she couldn't articulate. Dread just coiled up in her belly, making her waddle to the couch and sit down, desperate to get off her feet. The angel hesitated but eventually sat beside her in perfectly stiff posture like he forgot to read the instructions on his human body.

"Angels aren't supposed to exist," she muttered to herself in disbelief. "My family's been hunting for ... for hundreds of years, I guess, and we've never seen one."

Castiel nodded. "Angels haven't been involved much in human affairs since the time of Christ. We're here observing but humans are never aware of it."

"Because you're possessing people who pray for it," she surmised.

"Sometimes, yes. I haven't taken a human vessel since your civil war. Mostly, I just ... observe."

Finally, the courage found her. "Why are you here?"

"Your son is destined for great things, Mary." He looked at her kindly but she thought she saw fear somewhere in him as well.

"But I don't have..."

Castiel silenced her with a large, warm hand splayed across her pregnant belly. She realized he was talking about the unborn baby and a myriad of confused emotions flooded her heart. The baby seemed more sure of himself, though, and a foot bumped the angel's hand from within her womb. Both their eyes dropped to her belly. A second, harder kick hurt her and she gasped. Castiel pulled his hand away, fascinated.

"I've never seen human gestation this close," he admitted.

"You're telling me I'm having a boy."

"Yes, you are," he replied.

"And he's 'destined for great things'."

"Yes, he is."

"Okay." Mary waited, thinking he would explain, but only silence and kind blue eyes looked back at her. "You wanna elaborate on that?"

"I can't," he said.

She suddenly felt unreasonably angry. "Then why tell me at all?"

"Because his life is going to be difficult. He'll have a lot of decisions to make that will affect a lot of people in this world. I don't envy the weight that will be placed upon his shoulders. So I wanted to meet the woman who has given life to the Righteous Man."

"The Righteous Man?"

"Yes. Your son is chosen."

"What if I don't want him to be chosen? What if  _he_ doesn't want to be chosen? The Righteous Man..." Tears filled Mary's eyes and she shook her head. "It doesn't sound right. It sounds like a lot of death and destruction. I broke away from my family and stopped hunting so my future children wouldn't have to grow up the way I did. No, I don't want my baby to be the Righteous Man, whatever that means! Let him live a normal life, please."

"It's in God's hands, not mine." Although the statement sounded heartless, Castiel's voice hinted at concern and care. His head tilted subtly and his eyes appeared empathetic, yet they weren't his eyes at all. Empathy filtered from deep within, perhaps where the real being resided inside of than human disguise.

Sighing heavily, desperately, Mary looked to the ceiling as if it might give her some answers. She rubbed her hand over the baby in her belly. "How do I prepare him for all this?" she eventually asked, resignation tinting her voice.

"Love him without judgment." Castiel's words hit the most simple, instinctive place in her mother's heart. "He'll come to rely on his memories of you to motivate him in his most difficult moments. A great deal of opposition will face him but you are the one he'll remember with the most affection. Be a loving mother. There will be others to discipline later."

The way he spoke made Mary wonder if her child was destined to face a loveless life, but she lacked the courage to ask. "Okay," she agreed.

"I'm afraid you won't see me again, but I acquired a memento at the flea market. Humans attach sentimental value to this kind of thing." The angel rifled through his suede jacket and produced a brown paper bag wrapped around an oddly shaped object. "Please put it near where the baby sleeps."

Mary unwrapped the parcel and a porcelain angel rolled into her hand. Fluffy wings and a gentle expression carved in pure white. She smiled.

"I don't actually look like that. None of us do, but humans seem to appreciate the sentiment." His mouth pulled in an awkward attempt at a smile in return. Turning serious once more, though, Castiel took her hand. "Mary, I will always watch over your son. I pray that he won't ever have to be aware of me, but if the need arises for me to intervene on his behalf, I want you to be assured that I will be there. You shouldn't ever worry that he'll be alone. He won't, as long as I exist."

He seemed so certain of that. So sincere. Mary desperately wanted to believe that her baby had his own guardian angel. She clutched the porcelain figurine and nodded.

"Teach him to pray, Mary. I'll be listening." Castiel vanished suddenly in a swoosh of wings that she couldn't see.

Mary glanced around the room, but realized she was alone again. She badly wanted her husband's comfort. John Winchester worked all the time to keep body and soul together for their little family though. She couldn't bring herself to call him home and have him miss hours on his paycheck.

With a deep breath, Mary pulled herself together. She decided, as she placed the angel figurine on the fireplace mantle, that she had to lock away that secret from her husband. It seemed better to keep it between just her, the baby, and the angel. One day, her son destined for great things might understand, but until then, she simply wanted him to be a normal boy.

"You have angels watching over you, baby," she cooed at her tummy. "It's all gonna be okay."


End file.
